


Nest

by natsubaki



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Eggpreg, M/M, Mpreg, TKG Valentine Exchange, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3343646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natsubaki/pseuds/natsubaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The egg is his world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nest

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Nanaki BH as part of the TKG Valentine Exchange on tumblr bonus round: a small gift for one of my fellow exchange coordinators and the first friend I made in this fandom!

The egg is rough beneath his fingertips, like leather repeatedly left out in the rain and dried under the sun. Kaneki rubs it in wide arcs, feeling the slight give of its surface. He is curled around it on the bed—has been like that for hours since giving birth—and he hums to himself as he drags his short, blunt nails across the shell.

He never dreamt something like this could happen to him. It _shouldn’t_ have been physically possible, but he was an artificial being to begin with, so Kaneki learned not to rule anything out when considering his half-ghoul state. Especially when the “donor” whose organ had corrupted his body had been of the opposite sex.

But there it was—a gift beyond reason—pulsing lightly underneath his hold, matched to his own heartbeat. His stomach still feels tender, and he desperately wants a shower, but Kaneki couldn’t bring himself to detach from their little creation for more than a minute. Tsukiyama had convinced him to relocate long enough to strip and remake the bed of its ruined sheets (he’d had to carry Kaneki, egg and all, over to an adjacent side chair and then back), but it had been the only action Kaneki had allowed. He hadn’t even wanted Tsukiyama to leave his side, although the other had insisted upon preparing something for him to eat.

“You’ll heal faster,” he had said, and Kaneki, covered in a second skin of his own blood and torn flesh, couldn’t argue against that.

He isn’t even hungry. He just wants to sleep here, next to his still-unborn child, and forget the rest of the twisted world they lived in. It would’ve been better if Tsukiyama were lying there with them, too.

For the first time in a long while, the void his mother left sinks like lead in his heart.

His own family. Kaneki sighs and scoots closer to the egg, curls himself around it tighter. No matter how bizarrely it had come into existence, this is something of his very own. A partner who loves him more than the world and a child they would both give the world to. Kaneki’s life has been a string of tragedies, so he can’t believe in imaginary things like luck, but the undeniable tightening in his chest whenever he presses against the warmth of the egg and receives a gentle pressure back tells him otherwise.

Here, in this moment, he is lucky.

He wants to meet their child. Wonders what it will look like—if it will inherit Tsukiyama’s hair or his own dark eyes, if he’ll be able to see anything of his parents within its features. Wonders what kind of kagune it will have. Whether it will have one kakugan or two. Kaneki wants to hold it as it sleeps, watch as it yawns and stretches and laughs, tell it stories like how he heard his father used to do. He wonders how much longer they’ll have to wait to meet it, and how and what it will eat after it hatches. There is still so much he doesn’t know.

The bedroom door creaks open softly, and Kaneki carefully lifts himself up on his elbow to watch as Tsukiyama quietly enters.

“I’m surprised you’re still awake,” Tsukiyama whispers, easing himself down next to Kaneki. He brushes Kaneki’s sticky bangs away from his face, then skewers a piece of meat with a fork and turns the tines over expectantly.

He doesn’t feel like eating, but Kaneki opens his mouth anyway, allowing himself to be fed. A jolt floods his body when he swallows, the meat instantly beginning to replenish his strength. He can feel the residual nausea waning, the ache at the small of his back dulling, and the way Tsukiyama nearly glows at him… Kaneki’s breath hitches in his throat, and it takes effort to swallow the next piece.

A few bites later, and Kaneki has had enough. He pushes the plate in Tsukiyama’s hands away and lowers himself back around the egg. A cool towel brushes against his forehead and is replaced by soft lips before it returns to mop at his stomach. Kaneki fights the urge to shiver, tries to relax as he is cleaned.

Now that Tsukiyama has returned, the exhaustion hits him full-force. “Turn the light off,” he murmurs, and moments later they are bathed in the stillness of night. Tsukiyama falls in beside him, pulling up the bunched covers, a hand gently rubbing at Kaneki’s shoulder before gliding down to rest atop his waist. Kaneki lets two breaths pass before he reaches back and grasps the hand, pulling it around him, pulling Tsukiyama closer. There’s a soft chuckle from behind as Tsukiyama re-adjusts himself, and although Kaneki is sure it’s all in his head, the egg lying beside him feels warmer.


End file.
